Putting the "Self" in "Paralyzing Self-Consciousness" since the 20th century.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Discuss-ting

Consort and I had a pointless spousal discussion. Which, of course, led to my finding socks in the dishwasher. Didn’t we all see that coming?

A week ago, I came into the kitchen and found Consort unloading the dishwasher.

I said something supportive like, “Look at you, unloading a dishwasher. I had no idea you knew how to do that.”

Consort looked affronted and said, “I unload the dishwasher all the time.”

Because this was very funny, I laughed heartily. I might have even slapped the kitchen counter a couple of times, such was my glee.

Consort, sensing I was mocking his homemaking skills, said “I do empty the dishwasher all the time. You just don’t notice.”

I sat down, because it’s dangerous to laugh that hard while standing. When I could catch my breath, I gasped “You never empty the dishwasher. Never. You never start the dishwasher, and you never empty the dishwasher.”

He stopped putting away cutlery and gestured at me with a spoon. “I’ll allow that I don’t start the dishwasher very often, but I empty it all the time.”

“Or, you have never emptied the dishwasher in your entire life.”

As I have mentioned before, one of the marks of a truly pointless spousal discussion is the phrase “You always…” or “You never…” I now add a corollary; somewhere in a PSD, at least one participant should wish aloud for a 24-hour monitoring camera in every room of your house or the ability to travel backwards in time. Consort wouldn’t budge on his assertion that I just wasn’t awake when he emptied the dishwasher and then didn’t notice the empty dishwasher in the morning, and I stood firm in my belief that he hallucinates. Finally, he said in frustration, “You’d notice I’d done it if I left something in there, but because the dishwasher is completely empty it doesn’t register with you; I’m too capable for my own damn good.”

I smirked and said, “Yeah, that’s your problem. An excess of capability.” Good humor was restored and we watched “Cities of the Underground” in contentment. A few days later, I got up early to make Daughter her lunch for school and went to put dishes in the dishwasher. The dishwasher was empty but for a clean pair of my socks, draped carefully over the top rack. They were placed so thoughtfully, in fact, that one could say they were mocking me. I took them out, rolled them up and thought. I then took a piece of paper and wrote, “Well played. You still don’t know what to do with the laundry, though.”

I’m not stupid; a whisk in the dryer and Consort’s gloating is a small price to pay for folded clothes.

10 Comments:

Excellent! Our favorite PSD topics:Hey, that's the guy who was in that episode of the Sopranos...no it's not, it doesn't look anything like him...yes it is, for those of us who still possess a vestige of our eyesight....

AND

This coffee tastes funny...I need to clean the coffee maker...It tastes fine, what are you talking about...Are you kidding? I can SMELL the calcium deposits, you're telling me you can't taste that?...No, it tastes like coffee to me....

Okay, after knowing of your blog for the last year at least, I finally took a gander last month. I've been blog stalking you from afar, but no more. You make me laugh Quinn Cummings. Not to mention you're very good with spelling and punctuation. But back to the laughter... It's nice to bust a gut every now and again, so thank you for the chortles, and I expect many more. And here's to some levity over this holiday season!

At least he didn't play the "We" game, and I do NOT mean the $350 game console every kid wants for Christmas.

Husband is famous for saying on the way to a concert, "Did WE remember the tickets?" or "Did WE pay that parking ticket?" What? Are there numerous invisible people in this family that are resonsible for things like that because I'm pretty sure if, when he says "we," and he knows it's not him that remembered anything, it's gotta be me! What a concept! I have just taken to saying "no" to everything and letting him freak out a bit.

This is so funny... just this morning, mine was complaining about how I "never" unlock the door to our building and let us in when we get home (usually with our hands full)... and I said, It's division of labor! I fold the clothes from the dryer!